2019 Short Story Speed Writing: Strictly By The Book
by dust on the wind
Summary: The Heroes have been ordered to create a diversion. But there's a problem. Who can they turn to? Well, who do you think?
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own any of the characters from the series Hogan's Heroes. However, I claim ownership of any original characters appearing in this story._

* * *

Any day on which the Gestapo drove into Stalag 13 was likely to be a bad day for the prisoners.

"Hochstetter, coming down like the wolf on the fold," observed Newkirk, watching from the barracks window as the car skidded to a halt in front of the office.

Colonel Hogan came to join him. "Hochstetter - _and_ General Burkhalter. Don't you just hate uninvited guests? I wonder what's brought those two here."

"Actually, Colonel, I'd be more interested in how they drove here in the same car and both arrived still breathing," said Newkirk. "They've not exactly been chummy these past couple of weeks."

"Maybe the other guy acted as peacekeeper," suggested Carter, peering over Newkirk's shoulder at the third, unknown visitor; taller and older than Hochstetter, and wearing a plain black overcoat and undistinguished hat.

"Him? Do me a favour! If he's not Gestapo, I'll eat me wellies. Which would make a nice change from camp rations, anyway."

"They're going into Klink's office." Hogan closed the window shutter. "I don't like it. We'd better listen in."

He headed for his quarters, with three of his men at his heels. Kinch was down below in the tunnel, awaiting an expected radio message, but Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau took their places around the desk. On its plain unvarnished surface stood a common and rather cheap coffee pot, which contained a very uncommon secret: the hidden receiver for the bug which allowed the prisoners to listen in on any conversations taking place in the Kommandant's office.

The first sound to come out of the speaker was the soft high-pitched whistle which had become all too familiar in recent weeks. Experience had taught them that no adjustment to the receiver or the speaker would dispel this particular noise.

"It's getting worse," remarked LeBeau. "Klink's sinuses must be in a terrible state."

"That's not sinuses. That's the _Schnaps. _The longer the war goes on, the more he drinks over lunch," replied Hogan. "And the more he drinks, the longer he sleeps in the afternoon, and the worse he snores."

Carter's brow wrinkled. "You know, I had an uncle once who used to snore like that. Sounded like the twelve-thirty express to Crabapple Junction. It was so bad, my aunt was just about ready to walk out on him, but… "

"Hold it," said Hogan, as the voice of Klink's secretary Hilda came through.

"General Burkhalter to see you, Kommandant," she announced. Hilda generally spoke in soft tones, but recently she'd adopted a slightly shriller register whenever it was necessary to rouse the Kommandant from his postprandial snooze.

"What – who – what… General Burkhalter, what a pleasure to see you!" It was impressive how quickly Klink's instinct for grovelling kicked in; and how fast it collapsed on perceiving the General's company: "And...uh...Major Hochstetter. You're here, too."

"Sorry to disturb you, Kommandant." As always, Hochstetter pronounced the last word as if he would rather spit it from between his teeth and grind it beneath his boot heel.

"Er… not at all, Major. I was just catching up on some paperwork."

Burkhalter gave a dry chuckle. "Wouldn't that be easier with your eyes open?"

"Bowled Hochstetter, caught Burkhalter, out for a duck," murmured Newkirk. "Jolly well played, first eleven."

"Thank you, Fräulein Hilda, you may go," Burkhalter went on. "Klink, this is _Regierungsdirektor_ Werniger, Gestapo Department E1. He has requested our co-operation in a matter of security."

"Oh, I'm always happy to co-operate on matters of security," burbled the Kommandant. "What is it about?"

"It is top secret, Klink."

"I understand. What's it about?"

"Nothing you need to know, Kommandant," growled Hochstetter. "We are commandeering your office. You may leave."

"One moment." Werniger had a deep, resonant voice, like a Wagnerian baritone. "Burkhalter, is this man to be trusted?"

"He is loyal," replied Burkhalter, "but stupid."

Werniger chuckled. "I like that in a man. Klink, you may stay."

"With respect, _Herr Regierungsdirektor_," Hochstetter put in, "I have already expressed my opinion of using this camp as a base. I must advise you most strongly against letting Klink have any part in this."

"Hochstetter, you are obsessed," said Werniger. "Stalag 13 is the perfect location for this operation. It is central, and it is secure, and I have no doubt Colonel Klink will be happy to make himself useful during our stay. And if there is any breach of security, he will face a firing squad."

"You almost convince me." Hochstetter's voice was harsh enough to make the speaker vibrate, and the listeners in the barracks exchanged sly grins.

"Now," Werniger went on, "to business. General Burkhalter, so far I have not explained to you the nature of our investigation."

"Well, don't keep us waiting." Hogan quirked an eyebrow at the coffee pot. "We're all ears."

Werniger seemed happy to oblige. "For some time now, we have been monitoring clandestine radio transmissions in this area. However, we have not yet been able to make sense of them. Each time we come close to breaking their code, they change their key words and phrases."

"Very clever of them," murmured Klink.

Hogan gave a mock bow. "Thanks. But I don't like the sound of this. Carter, get down to the tunnel, and tell Kinch to stop transmitting."

"Recently, they have instigated a new code book. We have already compiled a list of coded messages."

There was a sound of rustling paper, before Klink spoke again: "_You're the best enemy a man ever had… __Frankly, General, I thought it was a lousy neighbourhood anyway__… __That would mean I would have to die first__… _Sir, these sentences make no sense."

"Of course they don't, Klink," snapped Burkhalter. "That is the whole point of using a code. Unless one has the code book with the translations, any broadcast is meaningless."

"Just so." Werniger took over again. "By good fortune, one of our agents in Hammelburg has made a copy of the code book. He is to meet us near this camp this evening and deliver it. Once it is in our hands, we will be able to understand and respond to any Underground message."

"Now I really don't like the sound of this." Hogan had pulled his own copy of the code book out of his pocket, and was consulting it. "_You're the best enemy a man ever had . _That's code for _Deep cover agent_." He turned a couple of pages. "_Frankly, General, I thought it was a lousy neighbourhood anyway _means _Rocket programme plans_. And _That would mean I would have to die first _is code for _Pick up at crossroads._ "

"Blimey, that's an entire mission they've picked up," Newkirk burst out.

"That's the job we did two nights ago," LeBeau squeaked at the same moment.

"It sure is." Hogan's eyes darkened. "We've got a big problem."

"What's going on?" Kinch came through the door at a run.

"The new code's been compromised," said Hogan. "The Krauts are about to get their hands on a copy of the code book. Any messages coming in are liable to be broken down."

"Then we got trouble," replied Kinch, waving a sheet of paper. "This just came in. _That's the first time I realised she's not a man…_ _I can't even see the floor_ … _You look like you've just seen a ghost…_"

Hogan flipped through the code book. "_Tonight's bombing target… Oil refinery… Diversion required._"

"Colonel, what are we gonna do?" said Carter.

"I don't know if there's anything we can do. If we leave camp to create the diversion, we'll be walking right into a trap. And if we don't, those bombers will be sitting ducks." Hogan frowned, and pulled on his lower lip.

Newkirk had taken the message from Kinch, and was scrutinising it as though looking for a way out. "Can't we tell London to cancel the bombers?"

"I guess we could, but…" Hogan trailed off. After a minute he went on. "Sooner or later, that refinery has to be put out of action. If our bombers can't hit it tonight, they'll have to try again, and soon. And since it could take months to get a new code issued, every time they fly out they'll be at risk, unless we can provide the necessary diversion."

"Well, maybe we can come up with a diversion from right here," suggested Carter.

LeBeau proceeded to embroider on this idea:"Like maybe planting a bomb in the road to blow up the dirty spy who's bringing the code book to the _Boche."_

"Wait a minute." Hogan snapped his fingers. "LeBeau, you just gave me an idea."

"We're gonna blow up the road?" Carter's eyes brightened.

"No," said Hogan. "We're gonna do this strictly by the book. The code book, that is."

His men looked at him, then at each other. "Colonel, I don't get it," said Kinch. "But whatever you've got in mind, I bet it's good. What's the plan?"

Hogan laid the notebook down on the desk, and grinned. "We're gonna make sure that code book is delivered. And that will give us just the diversion we need."

* * *

_Of course, you know what this means - it's time for the 2019 Short Story Speed Writing Challenge._

The rules:

1\. Between Saturday 15th June 2019 and Saturday 29th June 2019, write as many short one-shot stories as you wish, based on the given prompts.

2\. The minimum word count is 1,000 words and the maximum word count is 5,000. Author's notes should be kept to a minimum – please save your word count for story content.

3\. This year's prompts are quotes taken directly from episodes of Hogan's Heroes (again). _Your story must include at least one of these quotes:_

**Mother Nature's sure powerful when she wants to be**

**That would mean I would have to die first. **

**Sorry, I only answer two questions at a time. **

**That's the smallest general I ever saw. **

**He had that same look on his face the other night when he got us into this mess. **

**Heck, who'd believe that, even in wartime? **

**I can't even see the floor. **

**Well, let's face it, no day's perfect. **

**She gets you alone in the inn, no telling what might happen.**

**The French have always been great cooks, but terrible fighters. **

**You know, being a prisoner of war is a very dangerous branch of the service. **

**Frankly, General, I thought it was a lousy neighbourhood anyway. **

**I suppose when you've got it, you never really lose it, do you? **

**You look like you've just seen a ghost. **

**Hide it in the barracks, and I mean hide it so even we can't find it. **

**That's the first time I realised she's not a man. **

**You're the best enemy a man ever had. **

4\. If you recognise the source of the quote, please don't base your story on that episode. It will be much more fun for both writers and readers if you make something entirely new out of it. (If you can fit it into a story based on a completely different episode, that's even more fun.)

5\. Any genre, style or format is welcome, provided it's not in breach of the terms of the site where you post it, and as long as it doesn't infringe on copyright law. Songfics are accepted, but only if no breach of copyright is involved.

6\. **All stories are to be posted, on your preferred site, on Saturday ****29th ****June 2019. **This means, as long as it's 29th June somewhere in the world when you post, your story qualifies as part of the challenge.

7\. Don't forget to have fun!

And one tiny note - sorry for the cricket reference. I couldn't resist...


	2. Chapter 2

"How's it coming along?" asked Hogan, coming out of his office.

Newkirk, hunched over the table, looked up. "Just about done, sir. Bit of a rush job, but it's the best I can do." He laid down his pencil, and held out the notebook he'd been writing in.

Hogan inspected it with some care. "Nice work. It looks like a code book. Let's hope it's good enough to fool the Gestapo."

"How are we gonna make the switch?" said Carter. "'Cause it won't be easy, boy – sir."

"Since when did anything turn out to be easy round here?" grumbled Newkirk, stretching his shoulders. "Any ideas, Colonel?"

"Easy. We go out the emergency tunnel and split up. One team intercepts the spy with the real code book, the other makes the rendezvous with the Krauts and hands over the fake one." Hogan closed the notebook, and laid it down on the table.

"How do we intercept the spy?" said Newkirk.

"No idea."

"And what's the plan for delivering the fake code book?" asked Carter.

"Haven't worked it out yet."

"And when is it going to happen?" LeBeau put in.

"Wouldn't have a clue."

"Oh, well, as long as we know what we're doing," sighed Newkirk.

"I can tell you when, anyway." Kinch had just emerged from the tunnel. "I've been listening in on phone calls to Klink's office. The spy just called to set up the meeting. Nineteen hundred hours, at the abandoned barn on the old Bauersdorf road."

"Well, that's a start." Hogan folded his arms, and pursed his lips. "So if we can delay whoever's meeting him, we've got a chance. Although if it's Hochstetter, I don't like our chances."

"That's the good news," said Kinch. "Werniger's decided that the best man for the job is Klink."

"Whose side is he on?" Hogan's left eyebrow had gone up. It was always a good sign. "Okay, listen carefully. This is how we're gonna do it. It'll require split-second timing, and perfect organisation. But with Klink's help, we might just pull it off."

* * *

_Only one day to go. Have you all got your stories ready?_


	3. Chapter 3

"Okay, you all know what you have to do."

"I'm not happy with this, Colonel," said Kinch. "We don't know yet who the informant is. What if it's someone who knows Klink?"

"Or knows you?" added Newkirk.

Hogan finished buttoning his top-coat. "That's a chance we'll have to take. The good news is, it'll be dark, so he won't be able to see me very clearly. And I'll be wearing a monocle. That should be enough, right?"

They were in the tunnel, just below the emergency exit. Hogan, LeBeau and Newkirk were in _Luftwaffe_ uniform, Carter in civvies. As usual, Kinch wasn't going on this excursion.

Newkirk shook his head. "I still think one of us should go as Klink instead of you."

"Like who? Kinch? LeBeau?"

"I was thinking maybe Carter. He does a fair imitation of old Klink."

Everyone turned to look at Carter, who went pink. "Well, it's not like I'm proud of it," he muttered.

"You're right," said Hogan. "Carter's the most believable Klink in the place. More convincing than the real thing. The trouble is, he's also the only one who can meet the real thing face-to-face without being recognised."

"So I get to play the spy?"

"That's right, Carter. Which means I have to play the fool – I mean, the Kommandant." Hogan put his monocle into place. "How's that?"

"A perfect likeness, Colonel," said Kinch. "Only problem is, that's the wrong eye."

Hogan sighed, and swapped the glass over. "I guess practising in the mirror wasn't such a good idea."

"Perhaps you should let me be Klink, sir." One thing Newkirk couldn't be faulted on was his persistence. "Tell you what, why don't we toss for it?"

"Oh, no. I'm not gonna fall for that," replied Hogan. "Not after the last time. We'll go ahead as planned. Look, it's a perfectly straightforward operation. You and LeBeau will intercept Klink and keep him out of the way while I meet the informer and get the code book. Then Carter, disguised as the informer, hands over the fake code book to the real Klink. And after that we get back here before lights out. What could go wrong?"

"Well, if you put it like that..." muttered Newkirk under his breath.

"_Mon Colonel_, why can't we deal with the dirty traitor as soon as he turns up?" asked LeBeau. The suggestion was accompanied by a swift, controlled throat-cutting gesture.

Hogan squashed his hopes at once. "I hate to spoil your fun, but it's too close to camp, and we don't have the time. Once we've identified him, we'll let the Underground handle it. Synchronise your watches. It's now eighteen twenty-one." He looked around at his team. "All set? Then let's go."

Autumn twilight was settling over the woods outside camp; it was just dark enough to throw a little obscurity over any movement around the tree stump which concealed the tunnel exit, but too early for the spotlights. All the same, it paid to be cautious when going out, especially with Hochstetter and his goons in camp, so each man slipped out with due care, and immediately took cover in the undergrowth. Only when Hogan was satisfied that it was safe to proceed did the team set off towards the rendezvous. About halfway there, the group separated, Hogan and Carter going on towards the barn, while Newkirk and LeBeau took their positions along the old Bauersdorf road to watch for the Kommandant's approach.

They didn't have to wait for long. Klink was less than five minutes behind them. With his staff car off the road (a matter which LeBeau and Carter could have explained, if they had chosen to), he had been forced to come on foot. As he approached, Newkirk stepped out into the road, while LeBeau, who was always at risk of being recognised, kept close to the trees and tried to look less diminutive.

The Kommandant, striding along just a little too quickly with his shoulders hunched, almost jumped out of his skin at sight of them. "Who's there?" he quavered.

Newkirk saluted "Night patrol, _Herr Kommandant."_

"What are you doing here?"

"Patrolling, _Herr Kommandant._"

"Well... well, don't just stand about. Go and patrol something." Klink tucked his riding crop under his arm and started off again, but Newkirk moved in front of him.

"Begging your pardon, _Herr Kommandant_," he said, "might I ask where you're going?"

"That's none of your business," Klink snapped back. "I mean, that's a military secret."

"Of course, _Herr Kommandant_. But if you're going that way… well, I wouldn't, if I were you."

"I'll be the judge of that," growled Klink; then, after a few seconds: "Why shouldn't I go that way?"

"Land mines, _Herr Kommandant_."

"Lane mines?"

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_."

"Oh, that's ridiculous. Who would put land mines this close to Stalag 13?"

Newkirk pursed his lips, as if thinking it over. "The Underground?" he suggested at last.

"The French Resistance, on holiday," LeBeau put in.

"British commandos."

"Or maybe the Gestapo."

Klink's voice took on a shrill note. "Why would the Gestapo…?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Newkirk paused to let that sink in before he went on. "No, never mind. It was probably the Underground."

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about it," said LeBeau. "Just in case they're listening."

"The Underground?" whispered Klink

"Or the Gestapo."

"With respect, _Herr Kommandant_," said Newkirk, "might I suggest you take the other path?"

"Which other path?" Klink peered about. "I don't see any paths, only trees."

"It leads off that way." Newkirk waved vaguely towards a narrow gap in the undergrowth. "It's a bit longer, but it'll bring you right to the back door of the old barn."

"Who told you I was going to the old barn?"

"Stands to reason, _Herr Kommandant_. There's nothing else along the Bauersdorf road. Well, not until you get to Bauersdorf, but that's a long night's hiking. I suppose it might be worth the effort... if a man wanted to go to Bauersdorf."

"Oh, never mind," muttered Klink. "Show me this other path of yours."

"Follow me, _Herr Kommandant._" Newkirk saluted, turned on his heel and set off in a direction which, by a long and circuitous detour, would eventually bring them to the old barn. Klink, left with no acceptable alternative, followed; and LeBeau fell in behind, keeping his eyes peeled in case the real patrol came into view.

Much later, Newkirk and LeBeau agreed it might have made more sense for one of them to keep an eye on the road they'd just left, but at the time they never thought of it

* * *

Hogan and Carter were already at the rendezvous point. The waning moon was sitting low above the treetops, its frail, reflected light barely enough to cast a shadow. Nevertheless, as soon as the barn came into view, Carter had ducked out of sight amongst the undergrowth. Someone was already there, pacing back and forth, making no effort to hide. Even in near darkness, it was careless. _Not a seasoned operator_, thought Hogan.

Time to put on his best Klink impersonation. He pulled his shoulders in, lowered his head and, leading with his chin, strode forward.

The man stopped in his tracks, staring at the approaching Colonel. He was shorter than Hogan, with sharp features like a ferret. Hogan was pretty sure he'd never seen the guy before. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"_Guten Abend_." Damn it, he sounded more like Schultz than Klink. This was going to be harder than he'd thought.

"Uh... _Guten Abend_," replied the stranger.

"A very fine evening for a stroll in the woods," Hogan went on. He pinned on an inane smile, and waggled his head from side to side, which seemed to help. The man gave a sort of mumble in reply, looking around nervously.

For the first time in his life, Hogan uttered a nervous giggle. "Or for a meeting with... well, you know. With a friend." Even as he said it, he realised how ambiguous it sounded.

The man's response was equally indeterminate: "Are you...?"

"Well, that depends. Are _you..._?" Hogan was starting to get into his role now. He allowed a tactful pause, then jumped the gun: "I believe you have something for me."

The man stared at him. "You're not who I expected."

Hogan tittered again. It was surprising how much it helped with maintaining the character. "They needed a trusted man to act as a go-between. Naturally I offered my services without hesitation. Allow me to introduce myself. Colonel Wilhelm Klink, Kommandant of Stalag 13. And you are...?"

"You can call me Günther. Let's get on with it. I don't want to get caught out here." The man put his hand inside his jacket, and to Hogan's relief produced a small notebook, very like the one Newkirk had prepared. But as Hogan reached for it, Günther jerked it away from him.

"Wait. You're supposed to give me something in exchange."

"Ah. I see." So, it wasn't about loyalty to the Reich, after all. This guy had struck a deal. Hogan had already suspected as much, but he hadn't anticipated a cash on delivery arrangement. He'd have to improvise. "Well, that's between you and the Gest... I mean, the other interested party. I'm sure you'll be paid, in due course."

Günther's eyes narrowed. "How can I be sure they'll keep their end of the deal? Maybe I better hang on to this, just in case."

"Are you suggesting I should go back and tell the Gest... well, you know who, that you refused to hand over the item in question?" Hogan uttered a soft tutting sound. "Oh, dear. They won't be happy. And when they're not happy – well, we all know what that leads to, don't we?"

Günther knew that, all right. His shoulders drooped as he tried to figure a way out. Just for a moment, he let his guard down; and that was the moment for Hogan to move in and snatch the notebook from his grasp.

"You can't do that! Give it back!" Günther made a wild grab, but it was too late. Hogan had the prize, and he was keeping it.

"I'm sorry if that wasn't good manners," he said, "but my orders are to bring this book to Stalag 13, and I always obey orders. Don't worry. You have my word as an officer, a gentleman and a Kommandant. You'll get what you're owed."

He spoke with a hint of good humour, but Günther seemed aware of the threat lying underneath. "If I don't, then you'll hear from me," he growled, with a feeble attempt at bravado.

"Well, you know where to find me." Hogan glanced at his watch. "Heavens, is that the time? The night patrol should be here any moment. They're sure to be curious when they find us. What's more, they're such terrible gossips. It will be all over Hammelburg by lunchtime tomorrow. Ah, well, I suppose it can't be helped."

As if on cue came the sound of a tree branch snapping under a boot. _Perfect timing, Carter_, thought Hogan. Günther muttered something under his breath, gave Hogan one more furious glare, and took to his heels.

Hogan slipped the book into his pocket, and strolled towards where Carter was waiting; but before he got there, a further crack reached his ear, and he realised what he'd missed the first time. It was coming from the opposite side of the road, the wrong direction. Whoever was moving through the woods, it sure as hell wasn't Carter.

A moment later there was a muttered, but audible "_Schei__ß__e_!" Hogan froze in his tracks, while Carter, from his hiding place, gave a muffled yelp. For ten seconds, there was silence, finally broken by the one voice Hogan least wanted to hear: "Klink! Where are you?"

Instinctively, Hogan darted for cover. This was a complication he didn't need. But he should have expected it. Of course, Hochstetter had followed Klink to the rendezvous. Of course, he'd turned up at exactly the wrong moment. And of course, Hogan would have to get rid of him... somehow.

* * *

Note: Carter and LeBeau borrowed Klink's staff car in my previous effort, _Fast Machine_. They didn't bring it back.


	4. Chapter 4

With a vague sense of astonishment, Hogan found himself trying to decide what Klink would do in this situation.

"Klink!" Somehow, probably in attempting to keep out of sight, Hochstetter had wandered off the road, and got himself tangled in the undergrowth; and, judging by the amount of thrashing about, he was having trouble extricating himself. It would be easy enough for Hogan to slip away unseen, if he was prepared to abandon the mission; which he wasn't. Nor was he keen to let Carter make the rendezvous under Hochstetter's surveillance. That was just asking for trouble.

So, what would Klink do? Well, that was obvious. Klink would panic.

_Sure, I can do that_, thought Hogan. But he'd have to do it fast. The commotion amongst the bushes was getting closer. He might have fooled Günther with his performance, but Hochstetter wasn't going to fall for it. Not close up, anyway.

The branches directly in front of the road jerked violently from side to side. Hogan gave an exaggerated start, and scuttled off, as obviously as he could, to take cover in the shrubs against the side of the barn. Then, more cautiously, he edged away towards where Carter was waiting.

"Well, for Pete's sake," Carter burst out, in an agitated whisper, "who'd have thought _he'd_ show up?"

"Seeing how much he trusts Klink, we should have been ready for it. Look, I'll draw him off. As soon as the coast is clear, you go wait near the barn and make the rendezvous. Whatever happens, that fake code book has to go back with Klink."

Carter nodded vigorously. "I'll make sure of it. You can count on me, boy...sir."

Leaving him to it, Hogan made his way back to the road, and peered through the leaves. The moon was gone now, and it was almost completely dark, but he could just make out a dim, shadowy figure lurking in front of the barn. He waited till he was sure Hochstetter wasn't quite looking in his direction, then darted out across the road and into the woods on the opposite side.

"Who's there?" he called, in what he hoped was a fair approximation of Klink's quavering baritone.

"Klink, you fool," hissed Hochstetter. "Have you got the code book?"

"I warn you, whoever you are," Hogan blustered, trying for a shriller tone, "I have a gun, and I'm not afraid to use it."

He plunged further into the woods, making as much noise as possible. From behind him, Hochstetter, forgetting all caution, bellowed: "Klink! Stop!" The next moment he, too, crashed through the trees.

It was a long, long time since Hogan had last played hide and seek. Now, in almost pitch darkness, trying to dodge between tree trunks, socking himself against low-hanging branches and stumbling over protruding rocks, and with Hochstetter almost breathing down his neck, it took scarcely a minute for the old exhilaration to kick in. Never mind how dangerous it was, and how critical for the mission. Right now, all Hogan could think of was how much fun he was having. The road lay in a hollow, so Hogan made for higher ground, taking his pursuer as far from the barn as possible. Every so often he'd coax Hochstetter in the right direction with a timely cry of distress or histrionic squeal of alarm; now and again he'd miss his footing and slide down a little way, suppressing a good old American curse word. From the rich Germanic vocabulary which rose now and then from lower on the slope, Hochstetter was making a few unintended detours, too.

After some time, Hogan stopped to catch his breath. Looking around, he was pleased to find that through a break in the trees he could see the road. Even better, the glow of the searchlights on the horizon indicated the location Stalag 13, not far away. It was time to bring the game to an end, and head for home.

Hochstetter had outflanked him without realising it, and could be heard blundering about somewhere above. Hogan let him get closer, then started towards the road.

Within three steps, the ground at his feet gave way. He uttered a yelp as he careened forward, taking great leaping strides as he tried to keep his balance. How he avoided crashing into a tree, or falling and breaking his neck, would remain a lifelong mystery to him.

Somehow in his headlong descent, he managed to grab onto a sapling, and with a jolt which almost pulled his shoulder from its socket, he finally slithered to a stop, lying on his back, barely three feet from the road. Gasping for breath, he rolled over onto his stomach and scrambled to one side. A moment later, an equally out-of-control Hochstetter hurtled past, continued straight across the road and vanished into the undergrowth beyond.

For a minute or so, Hogan stayed where he was, hyperventilating. Finally, with a low groan, he pushed himself up on his uninjured arm. Then he dropped back again at sight of the tall ungainly figure striding with unseemly haste towards him.

_Well, it looks like Klink completed his mission_, thought Hogan.

As the Kommandant drew level with him, a dishevelled figure, hatless and clutching his forehead, staggered out of the woods opposite.

Klink stopped in his tracks, staring. "Major Hochstetter! What on earth happened to you?"

"I...I…" Hochstetter peered at him. "Is that you, Klink?"

"Of course it's me. But what are you doing here?"

"I was…" The major's voice trailed off. "I was following you, but I lost sight of you, and then… "

"You must have got lost, and tripped over something in the dark," said Klink. "Come along, I'll see you back to camp and get the medical officer to patch you up."

With a slightly finicky air, as though he found it distasteful, he took Hochstetter's arm and helped him along the road. "I have to say, I'm surprised at you, Major. A man like you should know better than to go wandering about in the woods at night. If I might speak frankly, it's my opinion that…"

Mercifully, his words faded into the distance, and Hogan was spared hearing his thoughts. He lay still a bit longer, then once again tried to rise.

"Can I give you a hand there, guv'nor?"

Never had that Cockney voice been so welcome in his ears. "Newkirk?'

"Blimey, Colonel, what have you been up to?"

Hogan winced as Newkirk helped him get to his feet. "I'm okay. Just a little sore. Where's LeBeau?"

"Sent him and Carter on ahead," said Newkirk. "Carter told us you'd gone off to lead Hochstetter on a wild goose chase. I thought you might need some help."

"Thanks, but I had it under control. Well, mostly," Hogan amended his claim, as his shoulder gave a fierce twinge.

Newkirk gave him a sideways glance as they set off for home. "If you say so, sir," he murmured.

"I do say so." Hogan smiled. It may have ended in bumps, bruises and a possible dislocated shoulder, but the absolute joy of the chase was worth it.

* * *

The following morning, he wasn't so sure. After roll call, he took a double dose of aspirin, settled himself on the bench outside the barracks, and tried not to make any sudden movements.

Kinch, who had remained on duty during his absence the previous night, had reported that Burkhalter and Werniger had seized the code book as soon as Klink returned with it, and hastened away to Hammelburg to take action on the intercepted radio message. Hochstetter had also returned to Hammelburg, where presumably he had taken to his bed. And Hogan and his men had slept in perfect peace for once.

It was late morning when Burkhalter's staff car rolled in through the main gate. Klink, beaming with pride, came bounding down the steps of the office to greet his superior.

"Burkhalter looks kind of grumpy," observed Carter.

"That's the way we like him." Hogan shifted his weight with a grimace. "Let's see what he's got to say about last night."

He led the way into his office and plugged in the coffee pot.

"It's so good of you to come today, General Burkhalter," said Klink. "Naturally, I can hardly wait to hear what the code book had to tell us. I'm sure the information was invaluable."

"Very much so." Burkhalter's voice could have cut glass, so sharp was the edge on it. "_Regierungsdirektor_ Werniger took full charge of the matter, since his department has been so closely involved. He was very pleased to discover the meaning of the three intercepted messages."

"And what did they mean, sir?"

"Well, according to Werniger, the messages translated as follows: _Tonight's bombing target… Adolf Hitler Bridge … signal flares required._"

"The Adolf Hitler Bridge? Again? Don't they ever give up?" Klink gave one of his little giggles, and Hogan felt a little thrill of satisfaction at how well he'd mastered it.

"That was the message. Werniger took action at once, ordering the mobile anti-aircraft battery to relocate to the bridge from the oil refinery, and sending troops to search for the signal flares and arrest any Underground members found in the area."

"Wonderful! A great success, General."

"Very much so – for the Allies," snapped Burkhalter. "They bombed the oil refinery into oblivion. The code book was a trick."

A chuckle went round the desk in Hogan's quarters. "Bulls-eye!" chortled Newkirk.

Klink wasn't so pleased. "Uh...General, I hope you don't think…"

"Do not start grovelling, Klink. You should know by now, it never helps. As it happens, since Werniger had made it his business to claim all the credit, it made it so much easier to ensure that he also received the blame. He is already under arrest as a suspected traitor. As for his accomplice, the so-called agent who gave you the code book, he will also be under arrest, as soon as Major Hochstetter feels well enough to undertake the task. And that will be the end of the matter, as far as we are concerned."

Kinch unplugged the coffee pot. "I guess he's right. The code is safe, and the Gestapo will take care of the informer."

"Boy, they sure did a good job for us with this assignment," remarked Carter.

LeBeau gave a soft snicker. "Maybe we should let them handle more of our work. What do you think, _mon Colonel_?"

Hogan's eyes twinkled, as he considered the idea. "Why not? One thing you have to say for them. Give them a task, and they'll carry it out – by the book."

* * *

_And that, as Burkhalter says, is the end of the matter, at least for the 2019 Short Story Speed Writing Challenge. My apologies for the very late posting of this final wrap-up. _

_See you all in 2020!_


End file.
